Biography of Angela Wybrow
I now live in Hampshire, UK. I have been writing poetry on and off for many years and really enjoy it. I love writing about a variety of topics and am hoping that there's something for everyone.
Angela Wybrow's Works:
Through My Eyes - United Press (2011)
A Magical Menagerie (2012)
Angela Wybrow Poems
A Headful Of Thoughts
I'm lying here, wide awake Trying hard to get some sleep; But my brain is totally buzzing, So it's useless counting sheep!
The Missing Sock
This afternoon, I had quite a big shock: I discovered that I have a missing sock! I put my socks inside the washing machine, But now one sock is nowhere to be seen.
When I received a letter from my Dad, Saying he didn't want to meet,
The Colours Of My Life
You’ve brightened up my life With colours bold and bright. Black and white and grey, They graced my every day.
People love to go skating, across the ice; It may be rather chilly, but it’s just so nice. People wrapped up in coats, gloves and scarves, Share each other’s company, and also some laughs.
A Spring Morning
The sky is the shade of cornflower blue; The clouds in the sky, are extremely few. Caught by the sunshine, everything glows. A fresh, cooling breeze, now gently blows.
My favourite vegetable, without a doubt, Is the humble, but holy, Brussels sprout. I cook them until they're really soft; Around my house, their aroma wafts.
The Music Festival
The beat of the music goes THUD! THUD! THUD! As revellers dance around, ankle deep, in thick, gooey mud. Bedecked in waterproofs and their designer Wellington boots, The festival goers are all having themselves a right old hoot.
I’m stood here on the platform; I’m holding my mother’s hand. There are things that are going on - Things that I don’t understand.
Standing At The Crossroads
I'm standing at the crossroads, deciding what to do; I'm making no rash decisions - I need to think this through. Should I turn left or should I turn right? At the end of which road will I see the light?
This town is becoming like a ghost town; Many of our local shops are closing down. Once upon a time, this town was really hopping, But now people go elsewhere for their shopping.
Hot Air Balloon
I saw a hot air balloon flying over my house: Most of the time, it was as quiet as a mouse, But, every so often, its burners suddenly roared, And higher, up into the sky, it suddenly soared.
On a gnarled piece on driftwood, This plump little bird is silently sat. It looks at me, then back at the river; It looks all around, this way and that.
Grey Skies In July
We are now well in to the month of July, But above my head, there's a leaden sky. For days on end, it has constantly rained, And I must say that it's a right old pain.
When I received a letter from my Dad,
Saying he didn't want to meet,
I decided to go and confront him.
I wasn't going to admit defeat.
'I told you in my letter not to come.
I thought I made that perfectly clear!
It would never work. I don't even know you, '
Were not the words I'd hoped to hear.